Thanks Mr. Policeman

Time for another birthday. Fantastic. I love birthdays but somehow their shine is wearing thin with age. I suppose mine is as well so it's fitting.

The best birthday gift I am sure to get happened today. I was racing to get my kids. I was late. I'd had to ask a favor of the ex to pick them up at school - which I don't relish doing (asking the favor, I mean; I love picking them up at school). I was going a tad too fast through the Broadway tunnel. I wasn't even aware (are we ever aware of speeding?) that I'd been 15 miles/hour above the speed limit when I got pulled over after exiting the tunnel. Truthfully I was so oblivious I couldn't really believe the motorcycled gent was waving his arms and flashing his lights at me. Where my head was I can't really say. Perhaps pondering the passing of another year, weighing the incredulity of being WAY closer to 50 years old than I am to 30 (I can barely see 30 from here). At any rate, my brain was in a fog. A fog that prevented me from looking at my speedometer, apparently.

I can't even remember ever getting a speeding ticket. I was remarkably calm considering.

Of course there were no hysterics, no theatrics, no fuck-you's and "ahh c'mon's". I sat patiently, handed him my license and registration and apologized. He went and did his little checking this and that thing back by his vehicle. When he returned and handed me back my license, he said: "Is this really your birthday? The one on your license?" Yes of course. Why would I lie on my license? "Yes."

"It's your birthday. I can't give you a ticket," he said.

"Well, it's not yet. It's tomorrow."

"Oh right well in that case, let me write this out." He smiled. "Kidding. Slow down a bit. They're cracking down in the tunnel."

"Of course. Really sorry. Thank you so much." And I was on my way.

What a lovely act of kindness. I deserved the ticket. I was apparently going 49 miles/hour in a 35 mile/hour zone. Who knew. Not me. But he cut me some slack. Thanks officer.